


The Journey will Guide Us

by I_am_a_Cephalopod



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, I like my obscure background ships, M/M, Mele Adaar, More tags to be added, The Inquisitor has a brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_Cephalopod/pseuds/I_am_a_Cephalopod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an unexpected visitor comes to Skyhold, Mele Adaar learns that her family is in danger. She and her Inner Circle set out to keep them safe, and in the process dredge up parts of Adaar's past she would rather have let lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. False Accusations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor comes to Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the story I've been working on with Mele Adaar. This is set after Corypheus is defeated and Solas has left.

As usual, the promise of a judgement drew a large crowd to Skyhold’s main hall. Nobles from all over Thedas lined the walls, murmuring behind their fans and watching Mele Adaar’s every move as she entered. It was first thing in the morning, and Mele had barely woken up when a runner had brought the summons. Deciding that changing from her sleep pants wasn’t worth the trouble, Mele had donned one of her nicer robes, hoping that Josephine and Vivienne wouldn’t rip her too big of a new one for it.

Speaking of, Josephine was oddly absent from her usual place on the steps. In fact, Mele couldn’t spot any of her advisors or her inner circle among the crowd, except for Varric, who occupied his usual spot by the fire. Already she had the feeling that this trial would not go according to plan, and it was with great reluctance that she took her seat.

The room fell into silence, everyone looking to her to say or do something. The attention made Mele nervous, and increased her respect for Josephine’s job. The Inquisitor had never been a great orator, only ever needing to talk to her family or those she considered family, but now she was expected to lead the Inquisition like she was born to it. Sure, over the past year or so she had gotten more comfortable with it all, but she still got butterflies in her stomach when she had to talk to more than ten people at once.

“Exactly who was it who called this trial?” she asked, finally breaking the silence that had been close to suffocating. A whisper made its way through the crowd, getting louder as a guard stepped forward. He wasn’t particularly remarkable in any way, somehow being the average for every trait Mele could think of. Except maybe his hair, which was jet black where it was present. Unfortunately, he sported a rather large bald spot that made him look like he wearing a ring of fur on his head.

“I did, your Grace,” he said, stepping up to where Josephine usually stood. It looked wrong to have someone other than their Ambassador standing there, and Mele immediately glanced towards the door to her office. To her surprise, the Ambassador herself stood there, looking just as confused as Mele felt. Not a good start to the day. “I am Corporal Pakard.” He dipped into a bow, showing off the shiny back of his head.

“Hello Corporal. Why have you called this trial without the say so of our Ambassador, Lady Montilyet?” Josephine would smack her for her lack of tact, but she was groggy and this man was getting on her nerves already.

“Inquisitor?” He seemed rather confused, and somewhat hurt by her words. Which made sense, seeing as how she was calling him out in front of every noble that had taken the time to travel to Skyhold. While it was ultimately his fault for going against protocol, Mele couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for causing him such embarrassment.

“There are procedures to these things. Lady Montilyet makes all arrangements for trails. Going around the system is detrimental to the Inquisition as a whole, not to mention it hindering me in my own attempts at time management.”

Corporal Pakard did not seem to be taking the dressing down well. His frame had gone stiff, his face a poor mask of his obvious fury at being chastised in front of so many people. Yes, Mele could have gone about this in a better way that spared the man his ego, but he could have also gone about the trial in a way that didn’t give Mele a head ache. Pinching the bridge of her nose, the Inquisitor sighed.

“Since we are already here, though, we might as well just get on with it.”

As the Corporal motioned to bring whoever it was forward, Mele glanced up to the balcony. Her two mage friends were watching curiously, joined by Lilianna who looked like she was planning on how to make the Corporal disappear. The absence of the elfin mage stabbed at Mele’s heart, as usual, but she pulled her eyes from the three to continue surveying the room. Cassandra had joined the crowd, standing by Varric as a hooded figure was lead into the great hall. It was all very dramatic and unnecessary, Pakard probably trying to show off. Sera slipped in behind the small procession, looking like she was assessing the situation and whether there was a ‘little person’ in need.

“Yesterday evening, a cloaked figure entered Skyhold, carrying with her a mage’s staff,” Pakard began. Cassandra’s blunt ‘that’s hardly a reason for arresting them’ echoed through the room, despite her attempts at subtlety, and Mele felt her mouth tick into a smile without her say so.

Clearing his throat, the Corporal tried again. “When asked to identify herself, she pulled back her hood and claimed her name was Adaar.” At this he pulled the hood from the prisoner’s head, revealing a very familiar face. Before the Inquisitor could get in a word, Pakard continued almost triumphantly. “Knowing that you were already within the keep, it became obvious that she was and is using an illusion spell to try and infiltrate the Inquisition. To what purpose, I do not know, but I am only happy to do my part by stopping her.”

By now all of her companions had trickled in, the Iron Bull and Blackwall standing in the back with Cole between them. Commander Cullen had entered through the side door and was looking about ready to have a coronary, meaning he had no clue there was even a prisoner.

“I see,” was all Mele could say, looking into hazel eyes that were a mirror of her own. This would be fun. “Did you report this to any of your superiors?”

The question threw him off guard, and the Corporal had the gall to look at her like she had gone mad. “Your Grace, may I remind you that I am not the one on trial,” he whispered, though the acoustics of the room did little to help him in the silence.

“Please answer the question, Corporal.”

“No, ma’am, I did not. I had it under control.”

The Inquisitor hummed non-committal and rose from her seat, coming face to face with the prisoner.

“Did you ask any mages to determine what type of spell he was using, or if he was even using a spell at all?” When she turned to look at the soldier again, his face was beet red, cheeks puffing out in rage.

“Inquisitor, it was clear to me that she must be using magic, there is no other way.”

“I see.” She moved to stand in front of the Corporal, arms crossed over her chest and trying to keep her amusement in check. “And were you aware, Corporal, that I have an identical twin?”

The color drained from Pakard’s face so fast Mele feared he might faint. He sputtered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as his words stuck in his throat. Mele could practically feel her brother’s grin, despite being unable to see him, and it took all of her control not to mirror it.

“Frankly, Corporal,” she continued, turning to untie her brother, “this entire thing could have been avoided if you had just used the proper procedures. Reporting suspicious activity to your superiors, having our mages check for spells and enchantments, contacting Lady Montilyet about holding trials, and if all of that fails, coming to me personally before making something like this known to the public.

“For now, I will let you off with a warning, but any further attempts to garner favor by working outside of the parameters we have set within this Inquisition will result in major punishment. Whether that is increasing your time spent on patrols or removing you from the Inquisition as a whole will depend on the severity of your folly. And I promise you, Corporal Packard, I do not make empty threats.”

With a disapproving look sent at the now fuming man, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. He stormed off, not stopping even when Cullen tried to speak with him. It didn’t really matter, though, because before her stood her brother, who she hadn’t seen in years.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce my twin brother, Nazim Adaar.” Nazim made a small bow to the astonished crowd. “Now if you would be so kind, we have some catching up to do.”

At the clear dismissal, many of the onlookers dispersed, gossiping amongst themselves and overall satisfied with the drama that had played before them. Mele knew they would be thirsty for more the next day, but for now dealing with the nobles would be easier, giving her time to devote to her brother.

The two grinned at each other, linking hands and grabbing shoulders, almost like they were making sure the other one was really there. After a minute or so Mele let out a little giggle, and her friends watched in astonishment as the twins pulled each other into a skull rattling head butt. They pulled back to grin at each other almost stupidly, before the Inquisitor’s brother smacked her upside the head.

“What did dad always say about vitaar?” he exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That you make it look better than I do?” Mele asked, rubbing at the spot.

“No, not to wear it to bed, dummy. You know it’s impossible to wash out if it gets on the sheets.”

“He is right about that,” Bull commented, pulling the twins’ attention to the crowd that still remained. Both stood silent for a moment, before Nazim grinned and elbowed his sister in the side.

“You gonna introduce me, or what?”

“Yes, of course. Uh,” she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Nazim, these are my friends and advisors. Not that my advisors aren’t my friends it’s just that they fit into those two categories and I feel it’s important to say so and I’m going to shut up now. It’s too damn early for this.”

Giving his sister a sympathetic pat on the back, the mage stepped forward and offered his hand to the closest person, who happened to be Josephine.

“I’d say I heard so much about all of you, but my horrible sister here never writes,” he joked, giving a winning smile to the group. Josephine took his hand and let out a small giggle when he lifted it to his lips for a polite kiss, a flirtatious twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps she just didn’t want to share.”

“I cannot speak for her, but I can say that she has not spoken of you either,” Josephine said, trying for consolation but falling uncharacteristically short. “I am Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador for the Inquisition. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I assure you, Lady Montilyet, the pleasure is all mine.” With a wink that had Mele rolling her eyes, Nazim moved on, taking Blackwall’s hand next and moving through the group, flirting with everyone as he did. When he came to the Iron Bull, though, he paused.

“I’m the Iron Bull,” Bull said simply, offering his in-tact hand and a grin. “Captain of the Bull’s Chargers and body guard to our Lady Inquisitor.” The twins huffed a laugh almost in unison, which was disconcerting to say the least, before Nazim took the other Qunari’s hand.

“I assure you, there is nothing lady-like about my sister.”

“Don’t I know it,” Bull replied, his grin turning predatory and a glint coming to his eye. Nazim’s shoulders tensed minutely, but Mele still caught the movement, assuming that his eyes had narrowed slightly and his grip had increased. Just like her brother to jump to correct conclusions and have a problem with it.

Last but not least was Varric, and Nazim leaned down to clasp hands with the dwarf.

“Varric Tethras, at your service.” Varric said, adding a bow and a flourish for effect. When he looked up, though, the blank face of the Qunari wiped the grin from his face.

“Did you say ‘Varric Tethras’?” Nazim asked in an almost cold voice. The soft ‘here we go’ form Mele went unnoticed as Varric nodded, hand still locked with Nazim’s. “As in the writer of ‘Hard in Hightown’ and ‘Tale of the Champion’?” Another nod. The tension in the air built for a moment, until it was broken by a high pitched whine that seemed to be coming from Mele’s brother, of all places. A grin broke out on his face, and Varric had a moment of panic before the large qunari started bombarding him with questions.

“Really sir, I am such a big fan of your work. I’ve probably read all of your books at least twice,” he finished, finally taking a breath after having talked for a good minute strait. “Could I get your autograph?”

“Sure…” Varric didn’t sound too confident, and had tried his best to shift away without actually moving, hand still trapped between Nazim’s large dark ones. The Qunari’s squeal of happiness was almost deafening, before he spun to look at his sister with a glare.

“I can understand, beloved sister, not writing about the Inquisition,” he all but growled. “Secrets and all that. What I can’t understand, though, is that you would keep the fact that Varric Tethras, author of my favorite book series of all time, is part of your inner circle.”

“I convinced him to write another ‘Swords and Shields’ novel,” she informed, completely unperturbed by his seething anger.

“Of which, the only copy is in the possession of Seeker Cassandra Pentahgast,” Varric put in, before Nazim could yell at his sister.

Instead he spun, eyes locked on the Seeker in wonderment. His face was the picture of hope, and Cassandra stepped back and gave him a glare. Before either could speak, though, Mele lay a hand on her brother’s shoulder and gave him a look.

“Your obsession can wait until later, brother. You stink something awful and are probably hungry from the road and the holding cells. How about we get you a bath and some food, and then you can explain why you came for a visit, yeah?” Nazim thought for a moment, looking like he was going to continue on his crusade for Varric’s book before his shoulders relaxed and he nodded.

“Those cells are horrible, might I add. There is literally a giant hole in the middle of your dungeon, I almost froze to death,” he complained, turning with Mele as she led him towards her room.

“I’ll take note of that,” she assured before calling behind her, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Then the two of them were gone, leaving the group in the now mostly empty hall.

“Well that was fucked.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on this for a while, and would love any feedback. Also, if someone would like to Beta this, that would be awesome.
> 
> As always, kudos are love, comments are motivation.


	2. Bitter-Sweet Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Adaar twin reunion goes a little worse than expected.

 “Did Mele ever say that she had a twin?” Dorian asked. Vivienne, the Iron Bull, Lelianna, and he were lounging around Vivienne’s balcony, talking and sipping tea. It was just a coincidence that they also had a clear view of the door to the Inquisitor’s room. An hour before the Inquisitor had emerged, run off to the kitchens, and then brought back two plates heaped with food. Since then there was no sign of her or her brother.

“It would seem our Inquisitor is better at keeping secrets than we thought. Bull darling, stop slouching,” Vivienne said, followed by a soft ‘yes ma’am’ from the Bull.

“I knew she had a large family, but beyond that she was very tight lipped,” Lelianna informed. “I can understand why, though. For someone as family oriented as Mele, details about her family could be easily used against her.”

“But that doesn’t explain why she didn’t tell us,” Dorian said, his voice giving away some of his hurt. “Did she ever tell you anything, Bull?”

“She once told me she was the oldest of fifteen children, the last time she checked, but that she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a sixteenth by now. Beyond that, I know as much as you do.”

“I feel bad for her mother,” Vivienne remarked, earning head nods and hums of agreement from the others. “I can hardly deal with one child that isn’t even mine. I can’t imagine fifteen that you can’t hand off to someone else.”

“The Tamassrans back in the Qun would have about ten kids at a time,” Bull explained. “To her I doubt it seemed odd to have so many children.”

The group lapsed into silent contemplation, punctuated by sipping tea and Bull trying to subtly shift in his seat. They remained like that until the sound of footsteps approached them. Varric sauntered up to the group, looking slightly worried.

“Whatever is the matter dear?” Vivienne asked.

“It would seem our Inquisitor and her brother are having a very heated argument. The kid is worrying like I've never seen before, spouting something about 'getting caught' and 'a danger to the family'.” He sat down heavily next to Lelianna.

“Perhaps one of us should investigate,” Lelianna suggested, pointedly looking at the Iron Bull.

“Yes, one of us should,” Vivienne agreed, also looking at the large Qunari.

“Alright, fine, I’ll go,” Bull grumbled, setting down his relatively tiny tea cup and getting up from his seat. There was a twinge in his left leg that he ignored, along with the smug smiles of his friends as he walked away.

“Take care Tiny, you of all people should know how bad it is when Mele gets angry,” Varric called after him, amusement tinging his warning.

The stairs up to the Inquisitor’s room were always a hassle, but usually there was the promise of a warm body at the end. This time, though, the Iron Bull knew not to expect anything of the sort. As he climbed the steps, the sound of the twins arguing got louder and more distinct. He stopped at the door and cracked it open a bit, listening.

“How could you be this stupid, Nazim?” Mele was yelling, sounding stuck between anger and despair. “You promised…”

“I know what I promised, and I know it was stupid,” came Nazim’s voice, placating and trying for calm, but there was an edge of panic too. “But that’s with hind sight. At the time it seemed to be a good idea, and I was desperate for information.”

“You’re always desperate, brother, at least when things go to shit. ‘Oh, I’m sorry I knocked down that hornet’s nest and got you all stung, but I thought it was a beehive and I was  _desperate_  for honey’,” she mocked, earning a scoff of disbelief.

“Oh, it’s just like you to bring up something that happened twenty years ago. What’s next, you gonna blame me for losing the cat again? You have to learn to let things go, sister dear.”

“Don’t you ‘sister dear’ me. I am not the one who’s put the entire family in danger!”

“How do you know? You haven’t written since this whole Inquisition thing started up! For all you know they were killed for being associated with you!”

“I didn’t write to keep them safe!” Mele cried, her voice wobbly with tears. “I know I’m a danger to them, Nazim, a danger to you. That’s why I keep my distance, to keep you safe.”

There was a tense silence that stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, filled only with the sniffles and sobs of the Inquisitor. The Iron Bull had the thought to barge in and tell that man to leave, brother or not, but he waited a bit longer.

“Mel, I didn’t mean to… They’re fine, Mel, last I wrote, they just miss you is all.”

“But they’re in danger now, and I might have added to it.”

Bull decided now was the time to butt-in, hopefully so that he could mitigate any damage. He knocked lightly on the door and called out a gentle “boss?”, waiting until he got the go ahead to enter.

When he did get a glimpse of Mele, she was sitting on her bed, furiously scrubbing at her face to try and erase all signs of crying. Unfortunately she was making her already red face practically glow, and had smeared her vitaar in a spectacular way. Her brother was standing next to her, arms crossed over his chest and looking worried, and a little guilty.

“Yes Bull? Was there something you needed?” Mele asked, her voice still a little shaky.

“I was just checking to make sure you two were ok,” he answered, giving her brother a wary glance. Anyone who made Mele cry was not trust worthy, in his opinion.

“Why would we not be?” Nazim sneered, pulling his arms tighter around himself. The Iron Bull tried his best to raise his remaining eyebrow skeptically. Mele let out a watery chuckle and stood, putting a calming hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“Just a little sibling fighting. Normal for any family,” Mele assured. Bull continued to look skeptical, but Mele gave him an encouraging smile, which did a little to calm his worries. “Truly, Bull, everything is fine. I’m sorry that we worried you.”

"Alright then," Bull said. The three stood for a moment, none of them quite sure where to go from there. "Well, if you two want, you're always free to join the me at the tavern tonight. The Chargers are meant to get back tonight, and I was going to wait up for them," Bull offered, hoping that some drinking and overall merry-making would take Mele's mind off of whatever had been so devastating. Mele gave him a soft smile, and tried to subtly sniffle again, but nodded.

"We might just take you up on that," Mele replied. "I think you'd like them all, brother," she continued, "They're a bit like the Valo-Kas except somehow crazier."

"That sounds absolutely terrifying."

"I assure you, it is."

"I'm just going to take that as a compliment and tell the boys you like them better than your old company," Bull teased. Mele blew a raspberry at him in retaliation and managed a real smile, which was a win in the Bull's book. "But for now I'm going to go find Cole and try to calm him down."

Mele winced, looking a little guilty. "Shoulda seen that coming. Tell the kid I'm sorry, and that I'll help him sneak honey into Lilianna's wine later."

Bull nodded, grinning at Nazim's look of confusion, before saluting and heading back out the door. He knew he hadn't done any real problem solving while there, but at least he had given them a moment to step back and collect themselves. And really, without prying into what were likely private details, that's all he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your feedback.
> 
> As always, kudos are love, comments are motivation.


	3. Everyone Needs a Drunken Break from Time to Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull's idea of giving the twins alcohol has mixed results, but everyone ends up happy (and Dorian gets laid).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is hard to write Bull being observant about people when I myself am horrible at observing people. Just saying...

It wasn’t until the sun was setting that the Inquisitor and her brother made a stop by the Herald’s Rest. It was rather quiet, considering the time of day, but with the Chargers gone out on a mission, their usual ruckus was absent. Instead, the Iron Bull sat in his usual chair, drinking and talking with Sera and Varric. He had tried to get some more people for a game of Wicked Grace, but everyone he had asked seemed to be occupied.

The twins entered with little hoopla. No conversations stopped, no heads turned, just the two of them walking in. Sera gave an enthusiastic wave, and Mele smiled with only a shadow of the strain that she had shown earlier.

"Good of you to join us, boss," the Iron Bull greeted, pushing Sera out of the chair next to him to make room for Mele. The elf grumbled a bit, but moved to sit next to Varric on the other side of the table. The Inquisitor gave the Bull a half-hearted glare, but still moved to take the vacated seat, her brother moving to settle next to her.

"Good to be here, as always," Mele commented, moving to wave down a bar-maid just as two mugs of ale were set in front of the twins. Mele grinned and thanked the pretty red-head, while Nazim gave the woman a flirty wink. Already used to the Bull's antics, she barely batted an eyelash, but her smile seemed a bit more genuine than before.

Mele immediately went to drinking her ale, taking three gulps before finally placing her now half-empty mug back on the table. Nazim, on the other hand, eyed his mug with suspicion, regarding his sister like she had lost some part of her sanity.

"I cannot believe you just did that," he said, still wearing the look of disgust.

"You think that's bad?" Varric scoffed. "She's out-drank Tiny here before."

"In my defense," Bull chimed in, "I had already started when she got here."

"Yeah, but 'Quizzie took shots to catch up, right," Sera laughed.

"Since when do you drink Ferelden ale?" Nazim asked, poking his sister in the side. She smacked his hand away without any malice, and Bull was slightly relieved to see the Mele he was used to.

"Since it was the cheapest thing I could get my hands on. I was trying to save up money to send back home, you know. Couldn't go off getting drunk on fancy Orlesian shit," she defended.

"Or you could just not get drunk," Nazim offered with a grin. The entire table laughed at that. "Ok, so maybe that's not the solution, but there has to be something better than ale from  _Ferelden_." _  
_

"You should be glad our esteemed Commander isn't here," Bull joked. "You would be getting a lecture on the finer points of Ferelden beverages."

"Which would lead to a lecture on Ferelden cuisine," Varric continued.

"And would end in him critiquing the selection here," Mele finished. "Now drink up, brother dear, that's all you're getting until its gone."

Nazim took a moment to brace himself before bringing the mug to his lips, not setting it down until it was empty. He winced as he wiped his mouth, but his sister still clapped for him, only slightly teasing.

Mele waved down the barmaid again, this time asking for 'something better'. Bull didn't know what the woman brought back, but Nazim didn't complain.

* * *

 

By the time the Chargers returned, Dorian had joined the group, and they all were playing Wicked Grace. Nazim had refused to play for money, though, so instead they each had a pile of peanuts in front of them. Nazim had become more friendly with each drink, and was now laughing unabashedly at a dirty story Sera was telling.

"So I'm under this posh lady's ruffled skirts, havin' a snack, while she's trying to have a conversation with some important bloke. From the way her voice were shakin', 'm surprised no one thought to check under all them layers," she finished, stupid grin plastered on her face.

"Please tell me that wasn't at Halamshiral," Krem said by way of greeting. The grin Sera gave him was answer enough, and he groaned as he sat on the side of Bull that wasn't occupied. The Iron Bull gave him a grin and a hard pat on the back, ordering a round of drinks for the Chargers as they fell into place. "Who's the new guy?" Krem asked once the drinks arrived, observing the thoroughly sloshed duo.

"That would be Mele's twin brother, Nazim," Varric answered. "And fair warning, he's as much of a flirt as she is."

"I 'ave a question!" Sera announced, pulling the attention of the table towards her. Varric dealt the Chargers in as they waited for Sera to stop swaying and ask. "If you," she poked Nazim in the chest, "and her," she tried to poke Mele but ended up unable to reach around the first Qunari, "is  _identical_ twins, how's'it that yer a bloke and she's a bird?"

"Well aren't you nosy," Nazim retorted, poking the elf in the nose. "If you must know, it's because I said so."

"But you don' 'ave a prick, yeah?" Sera continued, unaware that most of the Chargers were giving her glares. Not for the sake of Nazim, Bull was sure, but for the sake of Krem. The odd elf had never done this with his Lieutenant, but then again she hadn't been drunk around him when the two first met.

"That is only your business if we're fucking," he answered bluntly, seeming a bit less amused than before. "Besides," he continued, cracking a sly grin that seemed to break the tenseness that had fallen over the group, "Having a prick does not a man make." Mele raised her mug in agreement, taking a long drink. "In fact, if anything about a prick were to make a man, it would be the ability to use one."

Unfortunately, Mele's drink had been impressively long, and was now impressively choked on. When she finally stopped coughing and sputtering, she grinned at her brother, patting him on the back.

"If that were the case, _I_ would be a man." This time it was Sera who snorted, giving Bull one of her manic grins.

"Does tha' mean Bull takes it up the arse from you?" she asked, as subtle as ever.

"Only if I ask really nicely," Mele responded seriously, though the effect was ruined by the way she swayed. Nazim made a disgruntled face, mumbling "I didn't need to know that" before finishing off both his drink and his sister's as a form of payback.

When he finally sat down his mug he looked up to find Dalish watching him, and blinked owlishly at her. He then glanced around the table, looking confused. "When did they get here?"

Mele gave her brother the same confused look he was giving her. It was a bit eerie. "Your battlefield awareness is shit."

"This isn't a battlefield," he said, rather matter-o-factly.

"Same difference. Anyway, these lovely people," she swept her arm out to include the entire table, "are the Iron Bull's Chargers."

In an odd mirror of earlier that day, Mele introduced each person, her brother only nodding in greeting this time. Skinner and Rocky only looked up from their conversation long enough to acknowledge the introduction, and Stitches was practically asleep on the table already. Dalish gave a shy smile, which prompted a roguish grin from the Qunari, and Bull filed that information for later. Grim was as verbose as usual, grunting with a nod of the head. Krem, though, stared at Nazim, almost in disbelief. Nazim's returning stare was rather blank, and after a moment he gave a grin and waved, leaning over to his sister and not so quietly commenting "he's attractive".

Bull laughed as Krem turned an interesting shade of red, ruffling his hair to try and rile him up. Krem huffed, trying to fix his hair, but was placated when Dorian came up behind him, planting a kiss on the top of his head with a murmured "that he is". The two 'Vints had been involved for a while now, and Bull had to admit, he hadn't ever really seen Krem as happy as he was with Dorian. Dorian, who was now whispering something into Krem's ear that was making the warrior blush harder before standing abruptly.

"I just realized how tired I am. Good night," he quickly said, before practically throwing a grinning Dorian over his shoulder and leaving to a chorus of cat calls from his friends.

No one really lasted long after the two of them left, the Chargers being tired from their time away and the rest of them having been drinking like fish. Eventually, the twins extracted themselves from their seats, trying their hardest not to bump the table that Sera had fallen asleep on.

"Thank you for this," Mele said in an odd moment of sobriety, her brother taking a moment to hound Varric about a copy of 'Swords and Shields'. "I really needed this."

"No problem, Kadan," Bull said, his voice soft and affectionate. The Inquisitor smiled at him with that look that made his chest ache. It was open and could be read like it was written in bold black letters, and he couldn't help himself when he pulled her down for a chaste kiss. He was going soft (and probably had been for years).

"Goodnight," she whispered against his lips.

Long after everyone had left and the tavern was quiet, Bull remained in his seat, thinking back on the days events, and wondering what it all meant for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so just a little nerd rant, the 'drinking like fish' line isn't entirely accurate. It would be 'drinking like salt water fish' considering that fresh water fish actually have the problem of having too much water while salt water fish have to constantly drink to counteract the water they lose to their salty environment. So yeah, nerd rant over. (Anyone want to guess what I study?)
> 
> Onto actual notes, I have an idea of where this story is going, which is good, but I fear I might hit the same roadblocks I usually do, which is called 'The Middle' which I am notoriously bad at. That, transitions, and giving too much information. Because of this, I am going to apologize in advance, just in case this goes through some stagnant periods.
> 
> As always, kudos are love, comments are motivation.


	4. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A war council is held, and the Inquisitor asks for help.

The morning after the Inquisitor's brother arrived, Josephine sat in her office staring at the list of things she had to do that day. The early morning light streamed through the windows behind her, giving a soft look to her room, one of the many reasons she liked it here. The whole judgement fiasco the day before had increased the number of things on her list, adding rumors to quash and a follow-up on disciplinary actions on one Corporal Packard (most likely to be demoted soon).

Then there was the war meeting Mele had called for that morning. Despite the war with Corypheus being over, the Venatori seemed as strong as ever, leading them to continue working in a state of war, albeit a more relaxed one. There were hints that the Venatori still had some form of leadership, but whoever kept them working in the South of Thedas had not yet shown their cards, and so all the Inquisition could do was search and wait.

Sighing and shaking herself from her thoughts, Josephine began work on a draft of a response to Empress Celene, who had tactfully asked about the continued presence of hostiles within her boarders despite the Inquisitions claims of Corypeus' death. The Ambassador admired the letter's craftsmanship for a moment, how it managed to convey her frustration and anger without outwardly insulting the Inquisition. It would require an equally well thought-out response, which could take the majority of the morning to do. She would also enlist Leliana's help, the soon to be Divine's knowledge of the Great Game always invaluable.

As if knowing she was being thought about, Leliana stepped into the room after a knock to the door. She smiled at her friend, moving over to the desk and looking at Josephine's work over her shoulder. It was something Josephine had gotten used to, Leliana visiting before war councils, giving her quiet input and dropping in tidbits of juicy gossip. Just the thought of it made Josie's heart ache, already missing her friend even though she was still there.

She almost jumped when arms snaked around her shoulders, pulling her into a slightly awkward but still comforting hug. Josephine sighed and leaned back against her friend, forgetting the papers and the Inquisition for a moment.

"I'm going to miss you," Leliana whispered.

"It's not like we're never going to see each other again," Josephine protested, not sure if she was trying to convince herself or Leliana. "Besides, we have time before you leave."

Leliana smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to Josephine's head before retreating, right before commander Cullen knocked and entered. He carried with him a stack of reports, and almost tripped on the carpet as he went. He glared at the offending thing, like he did every time he had tripped on it before. Sometimes, when very drunk, he claimed the thing was sentient, waiting for him to be distracted before attacking in a way that would embarrass him like no other. Usually that was the point where someone would swap his drink out with water.

"Good morning," he greets, still looking at the carpet. The two women murmur their responses, Josephine trying to calm her emotions in paperwork while Leliana stares out the window. Cullen gives them a look, one that says he realizes something was off, but decides to leave it. Instead he moves past them and is the first into the war room. With one last glance at Josephine, Leliana follows.

Josephine remains at her desk, working on the response, until Mele enters, Nazim and Varric in tow. The newest Qunari looks reserved, almost as if he is walking back into judgment instead of a council meeting. He avoids eye contact, but determinedly keeps his head up. His hands are clasped into the fabric of his pants, and his shoulders look tense. Overall, he makes Josephine worry.

"I don't understand why I have to come," Varric was saying, not even bothering to try and look up at Mele as they talked. "I was on a roll with the writing this morning."

"You are going to take over the role of spymaster soon," she reminded him. He scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out a bit. "You need to know what's going on too."

"I'm still not entirely sure I want to be the spymaster. Can't you ask that Ritts girl? She's good at this type of thing," Varric protested. It was well known that, while Varric was the most qualified to take over for Leliana, he was the last person he would pick for it. Something about getting too attached to his agents.

"Ritts is good, yeah, and she can help you, but you're the only person I trust enough for this. Leliana is irreplaceable, I'll be the first to admit that, but if anyone could get close to doing what she does, Varric, it's you. You and your quick wit and sharp mind. I don't know if anyone else could do half as well as you could, but I know I wouldn't trust anyone else to even try." Varric sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You really know what to say to pull a guy's heart strings, don't you?" He sighed again, and halfheartedly punched at her thigh. "I still want to run around and shoot things with you."

Mele smiled and leaned down to kiss the crown of his head. "You will still run around and shoot things with me. That's what Ritts and all the others are for."

Varric nodded, and the two moved through the door, Nazim following two steps behind. Josephine rose, gathering her notes and her board, and brought up the rear of their odd procession. She closed the door to the war room once everyone was in, and took her customary spot by the table. Varric hovered between Mele and Leliana, and Nazim stood beside his sister, eyes darting over the large map laid before him. He picked up a marker, which Mele gently took and replaced, giving him a wry smile.

"Before I get to what I wanted to cover," Mele started, as informal as ever, "Was there anything you guys wanted to bring up."

Cullen cleared his throat, raising his hand slightly like a school boy before starting. "I have decided on an appropriate disciplinary action for Packard. He has been demoted to Agent, and been given night watch duty for three months. In addition he is reporting to me and a few of my subordinates for lectures on the army's hierarchy."

Mele nodded, humming noncommittally. Josephine felt that it was a bit lenient for the possible political fiasco it could very well turn into, but she was also sure that the Inquisitor herself thought the punishment a bit too harsh. It was a blessing and a curse, how good-natured their leader was, and Mele knew this as well. It was one of the reasons she let her advisers make decisions without interference. In a way, the Inquisition was three separate branches, with the Inquisitor acting as the force that kept them cohesive and on the right track. Each branch could work independently of the others, but they also interwove in such a way that strengthened them all.

"Preparations for my departure are still underway," Leliana said, breaking through Josephines thoughts. Mele gave the bard a bitter-sweet smile, feeling the same way many people were. "We have not come across any difficulties as of yet, but I will inform you if any arise. I assume it is now official that Varric is my replacement?" Both Mele and Varric nodded. "Then we have work to do," she said with a grin at the dwarf, who couldn't help but return the smile.

"There isn't much that requires your attention in the form of diplomacy, Inquisitor," Josephine explained when Mele's eyes turned on her. "The repercussions of yesterday's... events have yet to show themselves. I am expecting rumors of disorganization and insubordination among our ranks to spread to our enemies, as well as our allies. But I doubt it will be very difficult to disprove these. We have come far from our hastily drawn together beginnings."

"So none of you have things that urgently need my attention?" Mele asked, surveying the room. When no one spoke up, Mele sighed, running a hand along her horn. "Then I guess it's time to explain why I called a war council. Nazim, would you care to start?"

The other Qunari stiffened at his name, his back ramrod strait in a way that looked far from comfortable. He looked at the people surrounding the table, showing the same panic Josephine remembered in Mele when she first had to speak to them what seemed like ages ago. Except, there was also a hint of guilt within the panic, and a resignation that did not seem to fit. 

"So I've fucked up," he started, leaning heavily on his hands and dropping his head. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before he continued on. "As a child I was always fascinated by the Qunari, and by the Qun. Where we came from, how it started, who we are, the real history of it all. Not what the Tamassrans tell their charges, not what the 'Vints spout about us, not even what's written in the books. I was so fascinated that I decided to make digging into the Qun and Qunari my life's work.

"It started when we were kids, me asking my parents to tell us everything. They never said much, so I moved on to asking the Tal-Vashoth that used our barn as a half-way house."

"We would give shelter to Tal-Vashoth and runaway slaves," Mele explained in her brother's pause. That explained a lot, Josephine thought.

"Eventually, when my sister left to join the Valo-Kas, I left with her, gathering information from the members of the mercenary group. Still, my curiosity was not sated, and seven years ago I left the Valo-Kas to seek out more information on my heritage.

"I've traveled all over, searching ruins and libraries for information on the Qun and Qunari, and even the Kossith. Eventually, I ended up in Par Vollen."

"I apparently wasn't as good at covering up my tracks as I thought. I was captured by Ben-Hassreth, and 'questioned'. See, they weren't too happy with me digging up things they'd rather have buried. It's hard to keep people in line on nationalism and idealism and fear if they know that even with these things the Qun has failed before." His laugh was humorless, and his sister placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He didn't acknowledge it. "They didn't get much out of me before I escaped, apparently they didn't think a mage would know how to pick locks and be proficient at hand to hand combat," this time the laugh was more dangerous, "but they did get a few things... a few  _important_ things from me.

"They know that my name is Nazim Adaar, and that Mele is my sister. I never outright said it, but they would be worse Ben-Hassreth than they already were if they didn't get that from the way I reacted when they said her name. But the worst bit is, they learned I was from the Free Marches. They learned I had family there, Tal-Vashoth and Vashoth mages that were helping others leave the Qun."

He stopped for a moment, the silence hanging heavy over them. His shoulders shook minutely, and Josephine wondered just how long he had been 'questioned' by the Ben-Hassreth. When it was clear that he was not going to continue, Mele picked up.

"We fear they're going to look for our family," she explained. "While they know how to fend for themselves, I... we would feel safer if they were here, in Skyhold."

"That makes sense," Leliana responded, and Josephine nodded. Not only would it be good to protect the Adaar family from becoming leverage, it would be nice for Mele to have more horns in Skyhold.

"The only problem is, our parents probably won't move, the stubborn things they are," Mele continued.

"The best chance we have is if both of us show up and tell them they're in danger, and even then, they might just say 'fuck the Qun' and dig their roots deeper," Nazim finished.

There was silence for a moment, Josephine looking to the others to gauge their reactions. The silent communication that the three Advisers had become so adapt in once again reared it's head, and they came to a decision.

"What do you need of us?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I keep experimenting with whose perspective it's from, considering that not everyone is present for the important bits, and I don't want everything to be from Mele's perspective. I guess there would be ways to do it, but I'm lazy and this works for me.
> 
> So, I would love feedback. Or just a hello, that would be nice.
> 
> Also, today is my birthday! I am officially no longer a teenager. Hello 20.
> 
> As always, kudos are love, comments are motivation.


	5. So Here's the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inner Circle is brought into the loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have not yet played the Tresspasser DLC, and probably won't for a while because it is at my parent's house and I am and hour and a half away at school. So, this will be ignoring the DLC, though I may work some of it in when I get around to playing it.

By the time the war council ended, Varric felt the need for a drink and maybe some food. He had just enough time to go wrangle something from the kitchen before he had to be back in the war room for the rest of the gang to get the debriefing. He walked in with a mug of coffee and a plate piled with food as the twins finish explaining just why they are going to the Free Marches. Most of his friends looked concerned, some determined. Tiny, as always, was unreadable, most likely wondering about the Ben-Hassreth involvement or maybe just admiring how the Inuqisitor's tits look when she leaned over the table.

"So we're jus' gonna waltz up north, grab yer 'rents, and come on home?" Sera asked rather eloquently, trying her best to steal a chip from Varric. He then purposefully moved himself between Nazim and Vivienne (he doubted they would try and steal his food).

"Basically. Of course we are going to search for any rifts on our way, marking where they are and hopefully closing them, and extending the Inquisition's influence north isn't the worst idea, but the main goal is getting our family to Skyhold," Mele explained. "Josephine is arranging for a boat to take us to Kirkwall from Jader."

"Oh good, a boat," Dorian mumbled, crossing his arms and pouting. Poor Sparkler, Varric made a note to make sure they didn't share a room on the ship.

"Would you rather walk around the Waking Sea?" Mele asked, though she did give him a sympathetic look. "The plan is to leave in the middle of next week. Varric will only be accompanying us to Kirkwall, where he will stay to do some... how did you put it?"

"Networking," Varric supplied.

"Yeah, that. So, questions, comments, concerns?"

"Yes," Vivienne said immediately, waving a manicured hand to grab attention. "I am loath to inform you that I am returning to Orlais in three days. My visit was planned to be a short one, and while I would love to help reunite your family, other duties call."

"Of course," Mele agreed. "Your work in Orlais is important." Her gaze slid to Varric, giving him a half smile, before continuing. "So, we're down a mage and a rouge, anyone else?"

"Inquisitor, while I believe that retrieving your family is important," Cassandra began with her usual tone, "I also believe that it is better for us to travel in groups, and that leaving Varric on his own in such an... unstable city would be unwise."

"Aw, you really do care," Varric quipped. She sent him a glare that could kill a lesser man. Fortunately Varric was a great dwarf, so he was safe from her venom.

"So," she continued, as if he had never spoken. "I would like to accompany the dwarf to Kirkwall."

"Fair point," Mele agreed, nodding her head but still rubbing a hand over her horn. She only did that when she was worrying. "Anyone else want off the team?" She gave a pointed look to Dorian who, despite his hatred of any body of water larger than a bath tub, just smiled and minutely shook his head. Giving each person a look, Mele waited for any more responses, getting none and moving on.

"Prepare for warm and humid weather," she commanded with a tone that conveyed dismissal. "Thank you, all of you," she added, tone softer.

Each of the inner circle filed out of the room, some clasping the Inquisitor on the shoulder, others (Sera) giving a playful tug to her braid. Bull even went so far as to put a hand on her hip, giving a reassuring smile but not much else before exiting the room. Varric, in an attempt to lighten Mele's mood, offered up his plate, shaking it when she first refused. With a smile she relented, plucking up a chip and thanking him as he left, leaving the twins to themselves once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varric arrives at the war council ten minutes late with a coffee. (I amuse myself too much)
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the wait, but school has started up again and I've become obsessed with 'The Man from U.N.C.L.E.', so I've been binge reading the crap outta that. I will try to keep this one going better than I have for the past month.
> 
> Also, sorry for how short this is, but I really just had to get past this point and I couldn't wrap my head around it.
> 
> As always, kudos are love, comments are motivation.


End file.
